


The Queen and Her Serf

by AlexanderSpeedwagon



Category: Magia Record: Puella Magi Madoka Magica Side Story
Genre: F/F, Fantasizing, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Porn, Masturbation, Sexual Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:20:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27381820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexanderSpeedwagon/pseuds/AlexanderSpeedwagon
Summary: Every night, Yachiyo Nanami opens her web browser to find that she's gotten a new message on an erotic roleplaying site from her writing partner. Every night, she types a response to Alina Gray. Neither know the other's true identity, but they've been helping one another get off for months now...
Relationships: Nanami Yachiyo/Alina Gray
Kudos: 10





	The Queen and Her Serf

**Author's Note:**

> This fic wouldn't have been nearly as refined as it turned out to be without [bigscarythings](https://www.archiveofourown.org/users/bigscarythings)'s help. I'm personally a fan of his work, and if you're reading this, there's a chance you are as well. And if not, I'd highly recommend! Thanks again man! You da bomb!

_ ‘Haruka slips off the silk nightgown she had been wearing and crawls onto the bed. In the moonlight, her bare skin is visible, a pale, shining radiance that could put an Empress to shame. Though her arms were ridden from shoulder to wrist with goosebumps, her short, silver hair shined in the short time it was visible. As she crawled forward towards Hibiki on the bed, her playful smirk grew into a lustful smile. She knew what she wanted. They had kept up appearances in the King’s Court for far too long. Now that her mistress had a bedchamber all to herself, they could forget about that. They had an opportunity to be more than just Queen and Handmaid now. And Haruka would do  _ anything  _ to please her lover, her mistress… her Queen. _

_ “My lady, if it would please you, I would very much like to make you happy on this fine night.” She said, arriving at the other end of the queen-sized bed where Hibiki lay. Her lover was so, so beautiful. Even when most of her body- save for her neck and head- was hidden underneath several layers of bedsheets on a cold winter’s night, she was still the most  _ gorgeous _ woman in the entire world. Haruka knew she would do anything for this woman if she so much as asked. Anything. _

_ “Your humble servant is at your disposal. Please, make use of her how you will.” _

_ One kiss on Hibiki’s lips, and Haruka looked down at her, shivering a bit, fighting through the cold, determined to serve her lover and ruler to the letter, even in the dead of winter and the dead of night.’ _

“Perfect.” In a very different world- one where Italian and Japanese cultures had not clashed to give birth to an illicit affair between a Queen and her servant in a setting filled with Oriental ladies in grand Medieval castles- a young woman with long blue hair sat at her desk, staring intently at the screen as she moved the cursor of her mouse, hovering over the  _ ‘Send’  _ button. Yachiyo Nanami was always the kind of writer to look over what she had produced with a fine-toothed comb, scanning it once over for any inaccuracies or inconsistencies with the story up until that point. Hitting that  _ ‘Send’  _ button always sent a shiver running down her spine, the possibilities for what came next always made her eager for the next night’s response. Once she had, her work- produced in typically ten minutes or less- would be sent through the internet to another person- her electronic pen pal of sorts. One whom she had steady communications with for the better part of six months now. “Absolutely perfect.”

With those two words whispered, Yachiyo clicked her mouse, the words typed on the screen moving from an editable text box to canon literature in the annals of the history of  _ ‘The Queen and her Serf,’  _ as named by whoever  _ ‘GraySkies1104’  _ was. Whoever it was, she- for they had each revealed to the other to in fact be women- was a very skilled and detailed writer.

Yachiyo was not ashamed to admit that she had pleasured herself more than once to the erotic scenarios she and this other user had come up with.

She sighed, looking around her room. First to the left, at the door that led out into the hallway on the second floor of her ancestral home. Then to the right, where her inspiration for her most recent roleplay message had come from. While Haruka and Hibiki were imaginary characters in an imaginary setting, their situation had a few things in common. 

To her right, Yachiyo saw a full moon staring back at her through the window, curtains pulled to the side, helping illuminate the rather spacious bedroom she lived in along with the glow of her computer monitor. The bed that sat in that corner was not made for royalty, though the amount of throw pillows gave rise to valleys and crests in the landscape of her nightly resting place. Neatly made, all it took was a few moments of dropping decorative pillows gently onto the ground and a throwing back of her sheets, and she would be ready to drift off to sleep.

But Yachiyo Nanami was ready for anything but sleep. With the door locked and the rest of her team asleep, Yachiyo let the silence pressing in around her, the sharp, steady ringing in her ears, act as the permission needed to open her web browser. It had become something of a nightly ritual for her: Read what had been sent to her by her virtual partner, feel a certain warmth grow in a certain part of her body… and go from there.

The pajamas she wore were black with white polka dots- a gift from Iroha, who claimed they matched the dress she often wore- now only the top remained on her body. The pants formerly covering her legs were in a heap on the ground underneath her computer desk. Somewhere in the midst of typing out her response to the other woman, she had become a bit… excited… at the prospect, the mental image seared into her mind a scenario of eroticism and romance that she knew she was shamelessly jealous of. But roleplaying- especially roleplaying erotic scenes- was blatant wish fulfillment. So Yachiyo chose to allow this wish to be fulfilled for her with the mutual desire of a fellow lesbian over the internet.

Feet and ankles hooked around the insides of the front two legs of her chair left her thighs spread more than far apart enough to slip a hand in between them. Yachiyo found that she was wet already. A sigh escaped her lips as she leaned forward, scrolling up the page with her free hand, making sure both  _ Gray’s  _ post before her own most recent one were both visible. 

The image was conjured up once more in her mind. A Queen being tucked into bed by a servant eager to please her sexually as well as attend to her other temporal needs. A member of the nameless country’s royal house laying there in bed, eagerly awaiting the arrival of a woman’s touch. Yachiyo stared at the plain black text on the plain white background of the webpage. She moaned, biting down on her lip as her fingers started to move faster.

Reading slowly was difficult. In the span of just a few moments, Yachiyo had reached from the top of her monitor to the bottom, her mind’s eye catching up with her most recent entry into the story made just a moment ago. But that wasn’t good enough. Another moan escaped her as her fingers dared to probe inside her body- warm insides greeting her fingers, pressing down on them, causing beautiful, welcome friction- other hand moving down to reach for her clit. It was just as warm as the rest of her, no less desirable to touch. Yachiyo’s eyes closed, head lolling back as the searing pleasure pierced her body, mind’s eye already running ahead in an attempt to divine where the game would go next.

_ Haruka diving underneath the warm sheets to service Queen Hibiki orally. _

_ Hibiki accepting Haruka’s intimate embrace to kiss softly, romantically, sweetly as they touched at one another’s cores. _

_ Hibiki rising from the sheets to press their womanhoods against one another, hips moving in a methodical, blissful rhythm. _

No matter which scenario- no matter which position- Yachiyo imagined the two characters in, there was bliss, there was joy, there was… pleasure.

Pleasure that Yachiyo felt from the tips of her toes all the way to her scalp, tingling as the temperature of the room rose to well above a normal Japanese autumn’s night.

Yachiyo bit down on her lower lip as her pace quickened. The thoughts were so alive in her head, her imagination giving her such vivid images of the Queen’s bedchamber it was as if she was there herself. She could picture it now, taking Haruka’s place in her mind’s eye, being the one to feast upon the Queen’s core in the stead of her character. Feeling a woman’s warmth despite the pressing cold around them… it had been a long time since Yachiyo had felt that…

Which only made the images she was conjuring for herself that much stronger.

“Ah…” Yachiyo let out a soft moan as she started to pump her fingers faster in and out of her body. The warmth she felt from within herself was nothing compared to the heat that Haruka and Hibiki were soon to experience. She could feel every bump, every ridge insider herself, short-trimmed fingernails not causing the slightest problem for her as she kept on. 

_ “My Queen…”  _ She could hear in the voice created in her head for Haruka.  _ “I love you so, I am glad that I can express my love for you in this way.” _

Yachiyo opened her eyes again, looking back at the dim light provided by her computer. Those same words were still on the screen, the same image playing over and over again, nothing changing nor advancing no matter how many times she read it. And yet, the pleasure within her still grew. The tingling had grown into a small flame, which had grown into a roaring inferno that Yachiyo desperately wanted to help unleash upon her hands. With her own administrations, she knew that wasn’t too far away.

Another moan, this one a bit louder, as Yachiyo’s breath quickened. Her chest tightened, the knot within her core grew tighter and tighter, heating up more and more. It wouldn’t be long now, not long at all before the blissfully erotic scenario playing out in that fictional castle bedchambers would show Yachiyo in the real world just how beautiful a pure and simple love could be.

As her orgasm hit her, Yachiyo bit down harder on her lip. She was never much of a screamer, though with several people living in the house with her, she knew better than to fully let loose. As her walls tightened around her fingers and the knot in her gut released to let her feel the full extent of the pleasure she had been building up for quite some time, Yachiyo pressed down harder on her clit. Her breath was hard, labored now as she closed her eyes tightly, letting her mind’s eye wander back to that castle. Placing herself in Hibiki’s shoes for a moment, in the cold, unforgivingness of that castle… her orgasm was approaching at the 

When she came down from it, Yachiyo panted, looking down at the mess she had made. Staining the front of her chair with her essence was nothing new to her. She had done that plenty times before- and knew it would likely happen again tomorrow. Standing up, Yachiyo walked over to her bed, pulled up the purple skirt that hid its underside from the world, and reached in. She pulled out a plastic tote that held a few hand towels neatly folded up for this precise occasion.

Cleanup was always the most boring part of this whole nightly ritual, but Yachiyo knew that it was a necessary step. Even as her body glowed warmly after experiencing her previous intensity, she scrubbed away at the chair's fabric, hoping to pull as much of it out as she could. With that done, she sat down once more, spreading her legs again. Though this time, there was no pleasure involved save that same warm afterglow that still stuck around. The inside of each of her thighs was slowly scrubbed clean, as well as both hands- fingers coated with the same liquid as the rest of the area.

Once she was done, Yachiyo sighed once more, much more happily, though, and not as desperate. With a general positive sensation coursing through her veins, she grabbed the pajama bottoms, slid them up her legs- the elastic clinging to her hips, keeping the garment from once more meeting with the floor. One more look to the left- her door was just as locked as it had been earlier, the hallway just as quiet as before. If any of the Villa's three other inhabitants had heard any of what had just happened, they hadn't made themselves known.

Which was good.

Her other nightly ritual of neatly pulling throw pillows off of her bed- letting them pile into a heap on the side of it- was always a quick one, Yachiyo sliding underneath the covers much like she was hoping and expecting Hibiki to do in her next post the following night. It wasn't as cold in a temperature sense in Mikazuki Villa as in that imaginary castle, though it was much more ‘cold’ in the sense that Yachiyo knew she and this other woman were living vicariously through their characters. It was a love more pure than Yachiyo had ever felt from anyone else in her life, yet it was entirely fabricated by the most romantic corner of her brain.

Yachiyo had searched for years for a woman who could love her like Haruka loved Hibiki. Such a love was pure and simple, free from the distractions of modern life. Yachiyo looked upon her nightly messages with her mysterious stranger and saw love. She closed her eyes, savoring what it felt like to have been loved like that. It warmed her heart, even for just a moment.

But Yachiyo had squandered her last chance at love, leaving a pained misery in its wake that had proven difficult to forget about.

For now, though, as she closed her eyes under those lonely sheets and drifted off to sleep, she knew a few typed paragraphs of romance a day would have to be good enough.

—

On the other side of Kamihama, another young woman was wide awake. Though unlike Yachiyo she wasn’t in her bedroom, locked away from the world. Rather, she had placed herself in the center of an empty, spacious room, bright lights streaming down from the ceiling at angles constantly adjusted over the past year. Late at night though it was, this girl was not tired in the slightest. 

In one hand was a paintbrush as she stared intently at a canvas that was devoid of paint, though a sketch of two women was drawn on it in pencil. One with short hair stood looking at the bed with her back turned to the perspective of the painting. 

The direction this woman was facing held a large, royal bed with four posts on each corner. Another woman was visible, though only her head was sticking up from under the sheets.

“This could use a little more…” The artist said, looking over at a mirror for inspiration.

She herself was nude, save for a bandanna around her forehead, keeping her long green hair out of her eyes. Her own body was on full display in the stead of a model. The walls painted with murals behind her were only a backdrop for what she was focusing on: This time, her own body. 

Alina Gray took inspiration for Queen Hibiki’s appearance based on her own look. Long hair, slender form, slightly above average height. It was not too much a stretch of the imagination to view herself as royalty. Not when there was only one woman who Alina could really say was truly beautiful. Unfortunately, Mifuyu was probably at home asleep, leaving Alina forced to use her own body as a reference.

She looked back to the sketch and scowled, pushing forward with both hands at the easel in front of her. Both it and the canvas it was holding clattered to the ground, echoing off the wooden floor.

“Garbage. Absolute garbage.” Alina said. Looking at the nearly solid white canvas on the ground, she saw nothing but flaws in the myriad of sketch marks. Haruka’s pose wasn’t quite right, Hibiki’s body wasn’t formed well enough under the sheets, the bricks behind her were too uniform for what a Venetian citadel would have been built like at the time...

It was utter trash. So Alina disposed of it, kicking it mercilessly, sending it sliding across the oakwood floor, crashing into the door on the far end of the room. Alina furrowed her brow, glaring with no small amount of contempt towards her failed artwork. It was not a masterpiece, and was undeserving of even being considered for painting.

Fortunately for her productivity that night, Alina had a rather large stack of identical canvases tucked away in the closet. Trudging over with fists clenched, paint splattered across her face and chest from throwing the paintbrush in anger wasn’t an unusual activity for Alina. She wished it were, if only for the sake of creating masterpieces more consistently- for she would accept nothing less.

Starting from scratch on any particular project was far more common than said project ever actually being completed. Save for the murals on her wall, it was rare that Alina was ever satisfied with something sketched, drawn, or painted on the blank slates she used. Standing up her easel after a fit of frustration, likewise, happened on almost a daily basis. It was only after putting the new canvas back on the easel, staring into what mysteries it could hold, that she found a distraction.

Her phone sounded off, its screen lighting up from where it sat on the modeling couch some distance away.

“What is it now?” Alina asked, grumbling, yet still stalking over to it, fists clenched. One look down at the screen told her everything she needed to know. And it was enough to cheer her up.

_ Hitoritori sent you a message. _

At that, Alina’s frustrated grimace turned into a more melancholic frown, quickly unlocking her phone and letting the device bring her to the words that she had been looking forward to ever since last night, when she had typed out her own message. Sitting down legs crossed, slumped backwards with posture that would make any model wince, Alina held the phone near her face, and started to read.

“Haruka, you are a bold one.” Alina muttered as she watched the short-haired woman crawl atop Hibiki’s bed towards her in her mind’s eye. From Hibiki’s perspective, watching a beautiful naked woman stalk towards you with love and lust in her eyes was an arousing perspective. Alina felt no shame in bringing her free hand in between her legs, feeling at her core. While not wet yet, she could feel the beginnings of arousal there, especially as she pressed her fingers harder against it.

Mental images of her own ran through her head, taking a moment to slide her fingers along her growing wetness as she decided on which option to choose, which position to make Hibiki ask for. Alina’s character was far gentler a lover than Alina herself was in real life… though she had less experience at that than she would have liked. 

_ Hibiki pushing Haruka back up to her knees to dive in, tasting greedily at her core before requesting any pleasure herself. _

_ Haruka laying down on the bed, two of Hibiki’s fingers pushed far inside her, thrusting at a manic pace while they kissed passionately, Haruka’s legs wrapped tightly around Hibiki’s waist. _

_ Hibiki throwing the sheets off her and spreading her legs, bidding Haruka to turn around, allowing each to feast upon the other’s arousal. _

“My my, little bird, you must be excited tonight.” Alina said with amusement after she pulled her hand away, looking at the thread of juices that was running in between her middle and index fingers, a glistening, slippery consistency that Alina had always wanted to make paint from. She chuckled at herself before opening her mouth wide, taking those same fingers into her mouth, sucking them clean of her own essence.

“As am I, it seems.” Alina muttered to herself in a much gruffer tone, looking to her left and right. To her left, she saw the Kamihama night sky, devoid of any stars due to the cityscape extending out of the window that took up the entirety of the far wall. It was a long way down, as evidenced by the miniscule scale of the street below, almost as if it were a track of toy cars and Alina a behemoth. But she was only a behemoth of the art world. The world of lesbian love, the world of writing, that was where she found herself at the moment.

Tossing her phone to the side, Alina reached into her bag and pulled out a cordless keyboard. Switching it on, she scrolled down to the text box to reply to her internet ‘partner,’ and tapped on it, letting her fingers fly as fast as they could- and as fast as Alina could decide what to say.

_ Hibiki watched as her servant stripped nude for her, even in the intense cold of the night. She herself still wore her nightly robes underneath the thick layers of sheets. It would be idiotic not to when winter was in full force. But Haruka had, and that action alone proved her devotion to her Queen, even if nothing else did. Watching her crawl forward, hips swaying, was one of the most arousing things the Queen had ever seen. The swell of Haruka’s breasts as they dangled down, swaying in tune with the rest of her body, that smile on her face. When it leaned in for a kiss, Hibiki’s arms pulled up from under the sheets as fast as they could. It was a challenge to do so quickly- having to untuck her body from the warm embrace of her bed to meet her illicit lover in the cold shadows, but it had been done all the same. Their purpose was simple: To pull Haruka in for an even deeper kiss than before. _

_ As much as Queen Hibiki wanted that kiss, she knew it couldn’t last forever. Letting her servant- her true love- freeze to death atop the sheets while she was nestled in them warmly was a crime punishable by death. Hibiki wanted none to die this night- especially not Haruka- who deserved nothing but all the passion in the world. A trail of saliva connected their lips as she pulled away, a glint of lust clearly visible in Hibiki’s eyes despite the dim lighting. Haruka was beautiful. Damn. So fucking beautiful. _

_ “Come, under the sheets, it is my order. I do not wish for you to suffer for the sake of my pleasure.” Hibiki said, pulling the covers back enough to let Haruka slide in, bidding her to lay next to her. With her servant safely nestled in the same warmth as her, Hibiki dove a hand in between Haruka’s legs, expecting and hoping to feel some small amount of wetness that had arisen during that kiss. Hibiki herself knew that she was already aroused. _

_ “Touch me.” Hibiki whispered, rolling onto her side, legs spread wide enough to allow a hand to feel at her royal essence. “Give me pleasure only a woman can.” _

“Fuck, that’s hot.” Alina said, looking up from her phone’s screen and sighing, collapsing backwards onto the couch. While she typed, she had leaned forward, staring down at her keyboard just as intently as at her canvas when painting. Only this time, it was not an image one could see in a moment, but rather one that the reader had to gaze upon for several moments before discerning the real beauty that lay within it. For it was beautiful. Alina would accept nothing less.

Picking her phone back up after a few long breaths, she didn’t even bother giving it a once over before hitting  _ ‘Send,’  _ letting her lonely little bird do with the proceedings as she would. Alina didn’t care if she got aroused by it. Alina didn’t care if she masturbated to the thought. Alina would. And Alina saw no shame in this. It was an outward expression of whatever inner beauty her and her internet roleplaying partner had written. And for it, she felt her core grow warm, her body begging her for the nightly pleasure it had grown used to.

It was perhaps a bit unfortunate that Alina would not receive a response until the next night, but she could accept this pace. A break from her artwork, a time to unwind and de-stress from the pressure she placed on herself to perform. She had only herself to please on both fronts, but her written media had far lower standards than her visual media did. 

Alina wasted no time in inserting two fingers into her aching pussy, which had been begging her to touch it ever since she started to imagine the positions her character and her character’s fictional lover were to engage in. Legs spread wide, holding the phone up close to her eyes as she panted, squinting at it to reread what she wrote and sent, Alina lost herself to the pleasure.

Masturbation was not an art form. Sex was beautiful, but doing it alone was not. Making love to another woman required a grace and precision that Alina knew could not be so easily replicated alone. Even if Alina had never experienced making love to another before, she still could bask in the potential pleasures the freely flowing thoughts could give her.

“Agh, Hibiki… fuck her good…” Alina muttered, tossing her phone somewhere off to the side. She needed her free hand for more. Her imagination was more than enough now that she had taken a second glance at her response. That hand dove down to pull her hood away, touching at her clit that had been begging for stimulation. White-hot pleasure raced across her body, Alina giving off a loud moan the moment she pressed down on it. Her inner walls scraped against her fingers as she continued to fuck herself, hips bucking up at each opportunity, groans, moans, and whimpers echoed out of Alina’s mouth without a care in the world. Even if someone could hear, Alina didn’t think she’d care much.

“Fuck yes…” Alina grunted out. She was laying longways on her modeling couch now, toes curled, catching some of the loose fabric in between them in her pleasure. Fingers pumping faster, Alina’s imagination ran wild at what the Queen and her Serf could accomplish on that cold, intimate night…

_ Queen Hibiki laying atop of Haruka, grinding her pussy hard against Haruka’s thigh as her own pushed up against the other woman’s crotch. _

_ Hibiki kneeling over Haruka, pulling her head up to eat her pussy out, feeling Haruka’s moans in her crotch as she came hard onto those sexy lips. _

_ Harika’s wrists tied against one of the bedposts, Hibiki pushing an entire fist into her servant’s pussy with a gleeful smile on her face. _

Alina’s climax came to her suddenly, fingers still driving into her pussy as she screamed out, loudly. Yell after yell after yell as Alina’s essence spilled from her body, staining both the couch and her hands. Back arched hard, almost balancing on her head, long since having worked up a sweat, Alina poured out her lust into that orgasm, knowing it would be the only way to relieve that kind of tension.

When it was all over, Alina was left collapsed on the couch, panting, sweating through her headband. Paint had dried on her cheek, on one of her breasts. Irrelevant now. Alina had showered that night already, and wasn’t about to take another because of her own frustration earlier.

She sat up, looking around the room. Her phone was on the far corner of the couch, screen black now from how long she had fucked herself for. Her travel bag was on the other, keyboard still sticking out the top. Alina unceremoniously pushed the bag off with one leg, knocking it to the floor with a rather loud clatter. Her phone was reached for, navigating away from the roleplay to a screen full of musical options. Pressing play on a Sicilian hard rock band, Alina cranked up the volume, tossed her phone onto the ground- not caring about either the impact or the stain of her own juices left on the screen- and closed her eyes, letting herself drift off to sleep there and then.

**Author's Note:**

> It's weird that I now have a MagiReco smutty one-shot that's not part of the Coming of Age timeline, yet here we are. I didn't feel like this fit, given what's been established already. Between the current Arc 1.5 timeline and Yachiyo's relationship with Iroha in said timeline, I felt it was better that it get left out.


End file.
